


Damsel in Distress

by Sevidri



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Hurt Dick Grayson, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevidri/pseuds/Sevidri
Summary: “Jason,” Dick sighed and it came out more disappointed than angry. He just didn’t have the energy for anger right now.“Hey, I didn’t kill him! That guy was already dead when I got here,” Jason protested, and didn’t even sound particularly defensive about it.Dick manages to get himself kidnapped sort of on purpose. The rescue squad isn't quite who he expected.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Implied Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, implied Dick Grayson/Midnighter
Comments: 43
Kudos: 696





	Damsel in Distress

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to frecklebomb for betaing <3
> 
> Warnings for large amounts of blood, implied violence, and mentions of human trafficking.

Dick’s head hurt. It was the first thing he registered, although it was far from the only thing that was hurting. His entire body felt like he’d been fed through a meat grinder. A couple of his ribs were definitely at least cracked, his right shoulder was dislocated, and his left leg was definitely broken.

His head still felt like the worst part though, made it impossible to concentrate on anything or assess his surroundings properly. Someone was talking close by. No, correction, somebody was talking to him. “Come on, Dickie, wake up,” the voice said, sounding urgent.

Dick frowned. “Names,” he managed to get out, even if the word was muffled to be near indecipherable. His tongue felt like it was swollen to three times its usual size and he couldn’t figure out if that was actually a correct assessment because he’d bitten it on accident, or if it was a side effect of a drug that was still coursing through his system.

There was a moment of silence, then a hoarse laugh. “Only you would care about names now. Guess that means you’re fine, huh?” the same voice said, and there was something strange about it, something almost robotic-sounding.

Dick opened his eyes slightly, only to have his vision filled with a bright, vivid red. He recoiled and the movement sent another wave of pain through his body. He groaned, closing his eyes again.

“Shit,” the same person said, then Dick could hear a mechanical clicking sound. “Here, is this better?” a now-familiar voice asked, making Dick open his eyes again.

Jason’s face swam into focus in front of him. His eyes were covered by a red domino mask, but the slope of his mouth still conveyed his displeasure just fine.

“Jay,” Dick slurred, trying to lift his arm and reach out for him, only to find that his hands were tied behind his back.

Jason snorted. “Oh sure, my name’s fair game.” He didn’t sound angry though, more like he was amused. A knife made quick work of the rope tying Dick’s hands together and he flexed his fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them. 

“Wha’ happened?” Dick managed to say. He tried to get to his feet, but a hand on his good shoulder pushed him back down.

“Whoa Bambi, maybe don’t try that yet. I don’t wanna have to tell B that you brained yourself on the floor and died tragically.” Despite the uncaring words, the hand on his shoulder was gentle when it moved up to brush some hair out of his face. “So, apparently you got nabbed by some human traffickers. No idea how that happened, you’re usually better than that. I’m just here as the rescue squad.” 

That sparked something in the back of Dick’s mind. He remembered staking out a warehouse in Blüdhaven, remembered counting out the number of men and the patrol patterns, remembered coming up with a plan of attack and then discarding it, because—

“They had kids,” he said, his voice more steady now, even if it still hurt to talk. He could see Jason go very still. “They were talking about shipping them out tomorrow.”

“So you decided to get your ass kidnapped instead of calling in backup?” The calm in his voice was very deceptive. It always was with Jason, Dick remembered, even though his head was still foggy. Jason’s anger ran hot and generally close to the surface, but it was mostly for show. When he was truly upset, he tended to go cold instead.

“I needed a way to get to their main hideout,” Dick explained, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know it had been a bad plan, but whatever he’d stumbled into clearly hadn’t been their main hub of operations and he couldn’t just risk losing the kids’ trail after they’d been moved. “I have a tracker,” he added to defend himself.

Jason let out another derisive snort. “Yeah, and absolutely no sense of self-preservation. They beat you up good, Goldie.” Dick felt like he could hear concern in Jason’s voice and couldn’t quite suppress a smile at the idea. 

“Worked though,” he argued, even though he would have preferred a different solution. His leg really hurt and his side felt like it was on fire. At least his head was starting to clear up. 

Jason let out a long-suffering sigh, which was proof enough that he wasn’t really mad. “Yeah, whatever, just let me get you out of here.” He tucked his helmet under one arm, then wrapped the other one around Dick’s waist, careful not to put any pressure on his ribs. Finally he slung Dick’s uninjured arm over his shoulder and hefted him to his feet.

Dick bit his lip. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He leaned his weight more heavily onto Jason, grateful that Jason didn’t push him to walk just yet. He blinked a couple of times, his focus turning to his surroundings for the first time since he’d woken up. 

They were in a small room with gray stone walls and a low ceiling, likely somewhere underground, in some sort of storage space or maybe old catacombs. There was a rusted steel door that was standing half open in one corner of the room, and in front of it was a body, lying in a puddle of blood.

“Jason,” Dick sighed and it came out more disappointed than angry. He just didn’t have the energy for anger right now.

“Hey, I didn’t kill him! That guy was already dead when I got here,” Jason protested, and didn’t even sound particularly defensive about it.

“You’re welcome,” a new voice said, and Dick could feel Jason go tense at his side, just as the door was pushed open further to reveal a familiar black and orange mask.

“Slade?” Dick asked, trying not to show his surprise at running into the mercenary in a place like this. “What are you doing here?”

Slade just shrugged, which unfortunately drew attention to the sword strapped to his back, and now that Dick looked closer he could see that the amount of blood on the floor was a bit too large for a gunshot wound. That looked more like someone had gotten sliced nearly in half, which was really more Slade’s style than Jason’s.

“These idiots kidnapped the wrong brat,” Slade explained. “One of the fathers has used my services before, so he hired me to get his kid back and send a message.” 

Dick blinked, unsure what to say about that. How in the world did you accidentally kidnap the child of someone who had a mercenary on speed dial? 

Jason didn’t seem to have the same issue. “Why are you still here?” he snarled, which predictably didn’t have much of an effect on Slade, who just cocked his head to the side curiously.

“I wanted to see if you needed any help,” he said, and Dick could feel Jason bristle at the implication that he would either need or accept help from someone like Slade. 

“Did you get the kids out?” he asked, trying to defuse the situation.

Slade shrugged. “I’m only getting paid to save one of them, but all the guards are dead so I’m assuming your little brother here didn’t have too much trouble getting them out.”

Relief shot through Dick’s body. Of course, Jason would have gotten the kids out first, that had probably been the main reason he’d been here to begin with. Saving Dick was likely just a courtesy. He tried not to feel disappointed at that. The idea that Jason had come for him had been ridiculous anyway. Instead he replayed Slade’s words and groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t decapitate anyone in front of a bunch of terrified children,” he begged.

Slade huffed. “Don’t worry, pretty bird, I lured all guards out into the hall before I disposed of them. No little minds were scarred. Not any more than this whole experience already did, anyway.” He paused. “Well, at least if they kept their eyes closed while walking out of here. There’s a lot of blood.”

Dick groaned. “Great, thanks,” he said sarcastically. He should probably care more about the fact that Slade had just killed multiple people, but it was hard enough just to stay on his feet right now, even with Jason supporting the majority of his weight, and he just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Bruce could yell at him later.

He turned to Jason, glad that he only had to move his head a little bit to speak almost directly into his ear. “You got them all out? You checked to make sure?” He half expected Jason to get offended at the assumption that he’d ever go looking for Dick’s sorry ass if he couldn’t be entirely sure that all the kids were safe, but Jason just nodded. 

“Red Robin helped me sweep the base. He and Spoiler should have gotten everyone out by now. They’re probably handing the kids over to GCPD as we speak,” he explained. “I came back to get you.” He wasn’t looking at Dick while he said the last part, but Dick couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. It wasn’t like Dick didn’t know where Jason’s priorities lay. If anything, he was grateful Jason had come back for him at all. 

“As heartwarming as this is,” Slade interjected. “You should hurry. I set some explosives that are gonna go off in about ten minutes and it’s still a long way to the surface.”

“Why the hell would you set explosives after you already killed everyone?” Jason asked the question that had also been on Dick’s mind. 

Slade just shrugged again. “If I’m told to send a message, I make sure I send a message,” was his reply, and Dick just stared at him for a second. Yeah, okay, he couldn’t actually claim to be surprised. 

He let out a sigh. “Alright, whatever. Let’s just get out of here.” Jason’s grip around his waist tightened as he took one shaky step forward. His good leg didn’t particularly enjoy carrying his weight, but it didn’t buckle and that was good enough for now. 

Still, they weren’t moving particularly fast. Dick’s body still hurt far too much to demand a faster pace and Jason didn’t push him either. He was being far more gentle than Dick had expected, letting Dick lean on him as much as he wanted without any complaint, just bracing him without making any demands to move faster. 

They got to the hallway and Dick’s good leg almost slipped on the wet floor. Slade hadn’t been kidding about the level of carnage, and Dick tried not to think about it. It was only blood, he’d spilled and lost his fair share of the stuff, so it wasn’t like he really had a reason to be squeamish. 

His bad leg caught in the uniform of one of the corpses littering the dimly lit corridor, and he suppressed a gasp at the pain that shot through him at the movement. Jason paused, giving him a strangely sympathetic look.

Slade, who was still hanging around for some reason, gave them a look as well. “How about I just carry him instead? That would be a lot faster,” he suggested, and Jason immediately tensed right back up.

“Over my dead body,” Jason bit out, and Slade inclined his head, one hand reaching for the sword on his back.

“Is that an offer?” he asked, voice far too amused for a hallway filled with dead bodies. Not that Slade had ever minded dead bodies. 

“No, it’s not,” Dick cut in before Jason had a chance to respond. “And I don’t want you to carry me,” he added, almost hostile. The last thing he needed right now was Slade antagonizing Jason. Thankfully, Jason seemed to back off, the line of his body relaxing slightly against Dick’s side.

Slade just looked at him for a moment, the mask looking even more eerie when he was holding completely still, then he let out a huff of air. “Whatever you say, pretty bird.” The nickname made Jason grind his teeth, but he didn’t say anything, just continued to help Dick walk.

They’d almost made it all the way down the corridor when a bright light appeared in front of them. Dick tried to lift his hand to shield his eyes only to be painfully reminded that the shoulder of his free arm was still dislocated. He squinted instead as a doorway made out of light appeared in front of him.

A familiar figure jumped out, black leather coat flapping behind him as he landed on the floor in front of them. His heavy boots made a splashing sound and he looked down in disgust before lifting his head.

Dick let out another sigh. “What are you doing here, M?” he asked, exasperated.

“You know him?” Slade asked, and Dick hadn’t even noticed that he’d pulled his sword and was holding it with a practiced two-handed grip, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Or maybe even without it.

“Yeah, we’re basically besties,” Midnighter answered instead of Dick, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned to Dick, leaving his back open to Deathstroke in what would have been a brave display of an utter lack of self preservation for someone who didn’t have a supercomputer in their brain. Clearly the chances of Slade attacking him didn’t seem that high.

“Your whole bat swarm is aflutter with the news that you’re missing, so I figured I should drop by and see if you needed any help. You seem to have that part covered though,” he added with a meaningful glance at Jason’s arm around his waist, and Dick felt Jason’s fingers tighten against his side.

Midnighter took another look down the corridor, noting the number of bodies on the floor, before he shot a glance at Slade’s raised sword, then at Jason’s hand on the gun by his side. He made a face. “You know, for someone who’s got so many hang-ups about killing you really hang out with far too many cold-blooded killers,” he mused and Dick grimaced.

“Why are you friends with wannabe Batman?” Jason asked, voice derisive, and Midnighter’s gaze focused on him immediately. Dick could see his eyes wandering over Jason, taking in his stance, his expression, the way he was holding onto Dick and a hundred other things in less than a second. 

As much as Dick was not in favor of escalating the situation any further, he couldn’t deny that he’d love to know what conclusions Midnighter could draw. More often than not, Jason was a closed book to him, shutting down further every time Dick tried to get close, and a computer that could perfectly decode body language would definitely come in handy.

“Probably because I’m more fun than the original,” Midnighter answered, and Jason snorted. 

“No argument here,” he mumbled, softly enough that only Dick would have been able to hear him if the other two people in the room with them didn’t have enhanced senses. A grin spread over Midnighter’s face.

“I like this one, where’d you find him?” he asked Dick with a nod at Jason, who stiffened further.

“He’s my—” He paused. Calling Jason his brother was always a gamble, one that might end with him being dropped into a puddle of blood in this particular case. It wasn’t like he strictly needed Jason’s help anymore, not with two other would-be saviors just standing around, but that didn’t mean he wanted Jason to let go. “My family.”

Jason didn’t drop him, didn’t even tense up further or shoot him a dirty look. In fact, he was looking in the opposite direction, so Dick couldn’t see his face. Midnighter cocked his head, his grin still far too wide to be comforting.

“Like the way the big bad Bat is your family or the way the red-haired chick is from time to time?” he asked, fully aware that he was making Dick’s life unnecessarily difficult, the asshole. It also didn’t help that Dick could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I’m his brother,” Jason gritted out, his jaw clenched so hard it looked painful, and Dick should be happy he was actually admitting their connection for once in their lives, but somehow his heart wasn’t quite in it.

“Really?” Midnighter continued with a gleeful expression, letting his eyes flicker over Jason’s arm around Dick’s waist, the way Dick was holding onto his shoulder in turn and leaning fully on him. Dick suddenly didn’t want to know what exactly he was seeing. 

“Not to ruin your fun,” Dick cut in. “But we’re kind of on a deadline here. This place is rigged to blow in...four minutes?” he asked with a look at Slade, who was still holding his sword, but didn’t look quite so combat ready anymore. 

Midnighter frowned. “No it’s not. I mean, there are bombs here, but they’re not on a timer. I would have heard the ticking,” he explained. Dick turned to glare at Slade who just shrugged.

“Why would I set a timer when I still have to clear the building? I mostly just wanted to see what you would do.”

Jason glared at him. “More like you wanted to get your hands on him while he’s defenseless,” he spit out through gritted teeth, causing Slade to turn all his attention on him.

“Looks like I’m not the only one,” he remarked drily and Dick instinctively grabbed on to Jason’s shoulder just in case he’d let go. This could be bad. Usually implying Jason cared about him even the slightest bit was enough to make him take off and not show his face for a week. He didn’t want to know what this sort of implication would do.

He leaned more of his weight on Jason, stumbled a little. It wasn’t hard to fake with all the debris lying on the floor, but he could see Midnighter shoot him a look that was somewhere between deeply unimpressed and curious.

It had the intended effect when Jason braced him more firmly and didn’t rise to Slade’s bait. “Either way, we should get out of here,” Dick mumbled, allowing his voice to show how tired he was. His ribs hurt and his shoulder was starting to feel numb enough that he should probably get it re-set sooner rather than later.

Midnighter considered him for a moment, and Dick waited for the offer of a Door to take him home faster, was already trying to come up with a good excuse for why he couldn’t take him up on it, but M just shrugged. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then. There’s too many cops out there for my taste.”

The bright light of a Door appeared before him, but he didn’t step through it right away. Instead he gave Dick another long once-over, assessing his injuries one after another. “Alright, see you around, birdy. And if you wanted to bring your, uh, brother, the next we hang out, I wouldn’t be opposed.” The cowl made it impossible to see, but Dick could practically hear him winking. “He seems like fun,” M added, completely unnecessarily, then disappeared before Dick could get a word out.

“I should go as well,” Slade said from somewhere behind Dick. “Me and cops don’t mix.”

“Why are you still here then?” Jason asked, still sounding decidedly hostile, but much less biting than before.

Slade sheathed his sword. “Just making sure you’re actually taking the pretty bird to safety.” 

Jason’s fingers dug harder into Dick’s side, hard enough that it would have been uncomfortable if he wasn’t still wearing the Nightwing suit. “I’m not the one with ulterior motives,” he accused, but Slade just shrugged.

“Whatever you say. I just like it when he owes me a favor,” Slade said and Dick snorted.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who currently owes me a couple favors,” he said drily, and Slade laughed.

“I better start repaying you then,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Dick’s hair for the briefest moment. The affectionate gesture startled Dick, but Slade retracted his arm before he could say anything, fast enough that Jason didn’t get a chance to react either. “I’m giving you five minutes, then the building blows. Should be enough to get you a safe distance away.”

“Not blowing me up doesn’t count as a favor,” Dick argued, when Slade started to make his way to the exit. 

“Guess then I gotta get to you first next time. I didn’t realize you had so many people lining up to play hero for you.” Dick felt his face heat up again.

“That’s not—” he started, but Slade had already disappeared up the stairs and was firmly out of sight.

“You know, the guy in the fetish gear has a point,” Jason said, making Dick jerk hard enough that his ribs protested painfully. “You hang out with the wrong crowd. Too many killers,” Jason clarified, and Dick could see the tips of his ears turning red. It was startlingly endearing.

“I like to think I can be a good influence,” Dick replied, and Jason snorted, but thankfully didn’t seem offended.

“Keep telling yourself that, Goldie,” he said, sounding far more amused than annoyed, which probably had more to do with the fact that Slade was finally gone than with anything Dick had said.

Dick hobbled another step forward, Jason easily bracing his weight. He thought about Jason’s gentle fingers brushing a strand of hair out of his face, about Slade hovering close by and ready to defend him, about M showing up just because he heard that Dick might be in trouble. He felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, small and unbidden.

Yeah, he was just fine with the company he kept.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> This fic was born out of the dialog prompt "In my defense, he was already dead when I got here" and me musing about who would be most likely to say something like that to Dick.


End file.
